Grak was more fortunate than Maxwell was in his arrival to Earth. Grak had found himself in a park, or what looked like a park. With so much ruin, there were only minor details that Grak could make out, so he assumed it was a park. Nevertheless, he found a road that he decided to follow. When he past a sign, it said ‘University Ave W’ on it.

Grak had only walked a few blocks to the west when he saw a building that seemed important, so he chose to walk towards it. First he had to cross over what looked like tracks so that he could get around a concrete barrier with some metal railing. Then he went up the steps to reach for the door handle of the big wooden door.

Once inside, he saw a plaque that said the building was the ‘Minnesota State Capitol’. Grak wasn’t sure but he could swear that he was on Earth. Grak slowly began to explore the interior of the building but he couldn’t go anywhere of the west wing, since it had completely collapsed. But the right wing, he could hear something being shuffled around. Grak made his way over carefully and quietly. He couldn’t understand why he was so cautious but he felt uneasy with how almost everything around him was in ruin.

It made him think that there had been a war or perhaps the planet was attacked by one of the rival empires. And if there were survivors, or soldiers for that matter, he did not want to take the chance of being caught by someone hostile. Plus, Grak rarely joined any missions that did not involve boarding another ship or station. He rather be in space than on a planet.

Grak reached the doorway and slowly leaned over to peak into the room. Moment he could look inside the room, he could see shelves after shelves of books and electronic equipment that looked like old computers. But then his eyes fell onto a figure who had opened a box and pulled out a stack of papers. Grak sighed in relief when he recognized the clothes they were wearing, the uniform that everyone on the Sovereign wore. The classic black with the gray over the shoulders.

Question is, were they from the Sovereign? Or from another ship with the same uniform structure? “Excuse me.” Grak said as he slowly walked into the room, his intention to not startle the person, which failed. Who nearly jumped a solid foot off the floor as they turned to look at Grak.

They both let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh sweet celestial… Captain! It is so good to see you!” Grak exclaimed before he let out a hearty laugh. He felt so relieved, he just could not help but laugh.

Maxwell leaned back against the desk, his left hand still on his chest as he too began to feel relieved. “I was not at all expecting anyone else from the Sovereign to be here.”

“Neither was I, sir.” Grak said.

“Please,” Maxwell began. “Right now, in the situation we’re in, just call me Henry.”

Grak nodded his head. “All right, Hen…” Grak then shook his head. “Nah, Captain. I cannot.” Grak then turned his attention back to the box and pointed. “What are you trying to do, sir?”

Maxwell returned to the box and pulled out another bundle of papers. “I am trying to figure out what year it is. These are newspapers. They might give me some insight on our situation.”

“Any chance I can help, sir?” Grak asked.

Maxwell removed his commbadge and tossed it over to Grak. “See if you can modify our badges. You should modify yours to emit an emergency signal. As for mine…” Maxwell hesitated as he stared at one of the newspaper’s headlines. It mentioned of the third world war. “See if you can modify mine to detect gamma radiation.”

Grak looked mortified for a moment. “Should we be worried, sir?”

Maxwell looked to Grak. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been here for several hours. If the radiation was extremely high, we be in serious trouble. If it’s moderate…” Maxwell paused. “Then I hope that we find a way off this rock before we succumb to radiation sickness. If it’s less, excuse is going to be the same, get off this rock. But we would have a longer window.”

While Grak pulled out his little tool kit from his pocket and began to work on one of the badges, Maxwell picked up another box off the floor. He set it down on the counter and opened it, only to pause even more when he saw the headline on the very top newspaper. “Damn.”

“Sir?” Grak asked.

Maxwell went to the closest chair before he sat down. He bent over, rested his elbows onto his knees and rubbed his hands together. “It’s safe to say that we are absolutely safe to say that we’re in an alternate universe. Unless someone actually went back in time and messed it all up.”

Maxwell looked up to Grak to see the man was still confused. So Maxwell continued. “My parents had me study on Earth’s history of the Third World War, quite extensively. To sum it up, Commander.” Maxwell sat up and leaned back into his seat. “Some governments had toyed with the idea of a cluster nuclear weapon. A device that would separate into multiple devices with a heavy nuclear payload. The whole concept was buried and forgotten because in our universe, humanity wasn’t that cynical to use such a weapon on any other country, regardless of having it as a deterrent.”

Maxwell cleared his throat. “It was named the Jericho Device and in this universe, many countries had developed it, more than our universe had even considered. My guess is, they were hoping it would keep the leaders from deploying weapons of mass destruction, as it would only kill millions of innocent civilians that had no part in the war.”

Maxwell could see that Grak had put it together when his head slowly dropped. “Yeah. We’re in a universe of the result of what happens if that weapon was used.” Maxwell pushed himself out of the chair. “And clearly they had different targets; otherwise this city, the capitol of this state, it would of been a crater than this.”

Grak finished the modifications to Maxwell’s commbadge and it began to emit a solid, mid-pitch tone. One that both Grak and Maxwell knew well enough of what that meant. “With these devices…how long do we have?”

Maxwell looked at Grak dead in the eyes. “If we don’t find proper shelter, or medical supplies to combat it, after seventy-two hours, we’d be walking ghosts.”